I’m messed up, and possibly bipolar

Only one of my friends knows I cut, and she thinks I’ve stopped. It’s ironic that the closest person I have to a best friend doesn’t like wrists because she’s squeamish about cutting.
I don’t know why I find that kind of funny. I have a really twisted sense of humour. And she’s the person I’d be most likely to tell, too.
But… it’s not fair on her. It’d hurt her.
My parents think I’ve stopped too. It’s not like my mum cared anyway. She’s too disappointed I’m not a carbon copy of her to accept I might actually have opinions of my own. And my dad’s kind of scary when he’s drinking or angry, which is happening a lot at the moment. Even if he’s not drunk, I get scared when he has a glass of wine. He’s not abusive or anything, just… he says stuff he’d never say when he’s sober. And he never remembers it either. I never bring it up.

I’m messed up.

It’d be better if I wasn’t alive, really. What kind of girl makes a New Year’s Resolution to kill herself? Helium’s painless, and my parents wouldn’t need to know. I could pretend I was getting it for a party. And seeing as I used to aquascape (like landscaping, but in an aquarium), I could say I was going to try and get back into it. Scaping hose doesn’t leak gas. Good for injecting CO2 into aquaria. Or helium into an exit bag, which you can get all too easily. Even Tesco sells bags you could use. Oversized freezer bags, for example, or miniature bin bags.
It’s too simple to commit suicide. And no one would really care. They’d be better off without me.
Sometime before the end of April would be good, but really, the sooner the better.

I’ve thought about it far too much. I’ve researched. (Yeah, I have all sorts of tables and graphs and articles hidden away. And people say I’m not that nerdy.) I’m going to go through with it, and I’m not going to fail. Because I’ve never failed anything before, and this is in no way going to be the first.

And I keep my word. I said I was going to do it. Might as well get it over and done with.

Although, I think I deserve a week’s worth of mochas (every day at school) before I start buying things, because one can’t keep on top of all the homework Year 8 gets, one’s internet duties, and suicide preparations all at once.

Love always,
Victoria

Why Suffocation Doesn’t Kill You

Your brain doesn’t know when it’s running out of oxygen, but it knows that there’s too much carbon dioxide.
Helium is different to carbon dioxide.

Just saying.

Love always,
Victoria

Right to Die?

Disclaimer: I do not promote any form of eating disorder, self harm or suicide.

These are just my opinions, and should be taken as such.

I reserve the right to edit this content. (So there.)

Most people on the interwebs will have heard of the so-called ‘right to die’ groups. These are organisations such as the now-defunct Hemlock Society that provide detailed information about suicide, specifically how to commit.
Before I get virtually murdered*, let me point something out.

Pro ana.
Ever heard of that one? Look at the Tumblr tag.
The best way to explain it is material (generally images) encouraging anorexia nervosa. Anorexia. Ana.

Self harm.
Again, don’t Google it. Tumblr’s the way forward.
Poetry, photography, quotes of girls (generally – the Tumblr boys that harm mainly reblog pictures of girls) harming themselves, be it the cuts, the blades, the blood, or all three.

Now suicide.
Don’t look at the Tumblr tag; 99.9% of it is hate. Look at blogs. Websites. PDFs. Material encouraging pain-free ways of killing yourself.

Let me put it this way.
A girl – let’s call her… Lizzy – wants to be thinner.
She starts starving herself.
Then she looks at the pro-ana tag on Tumblr. She discovers ways of exercising to burn more calories, different diets that are healthier than what she’s currently doing, other girls out there that can and will support her. She loses more weight than she was before, but she’s happier, because she’s not alone.

Lizzy starts feeling depressed. She gets a knife and cuts.
She looks at the self harm tag on Tumblr. There she finds other ways of coping, less painful ways to cut**, and again, other girls going through the same thing. She’s not happy, exactly, but she feels… more in control.

Lizzy becomes suicidal. Let’s not discuss how. She decides to hang herself, but checks Tumblr and a few blogs she’s found.
She discovers that hanging yourself isn’t a guaranteed way to die, that it’s pretty fucking painful, that there are easier, quicker, less agonizing ways to die.
She kills herself, but she’s not in pain when she does.

Do you see what I’m getting at? These sites don’t stop you doing whatever it is. But they make it easier, for lack of a better word. They give you dignity.

I don’t think anyone should kill themselves. But I’m the biggest hypocrite you’ll find on that. And I think that these sites help, if not in the decision, then in the execution.

Less pain for you means less pain for others. And surely that’s a good thing.

Love always,
Victoria

* Pun 100% intended***. Sue me.‡
** For the record, sharpener blades are the motherfucker of self harm. I’m not even joking. And don’t even look at serrated ones.
*** Honestly, I didn’t notice the second one. That was 100% unintended.
‡ Please don’t sue me.